


Peace and War on the Planet Earth

by rafamarkos5998



Series: Son of Shiva [5]
Category: Batgirl (Comics), Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Hood: Lost Days
Genre: BAMF Cassandra Cain, Building A New Life, Cass is getting into fights, Cassandra Cain and Jason Todd are Siblings, Cassandra Cain is Not Black Bat, Cassandra Cain is Orphan, Gen, Good Older Sibling Cassandra Cain, Good Parent Talia al Ghul, Hurt Cassandra Cain, Jason Todd Deserves Better, Jason Todd is Ghost, Jason Todd is Not Red Hood, No beta we die like mne, POV Multiple, POV Third Person Limited, Past Talia al Ghul/Bruce Wayne, Sandra Woosan is Jason Todd's Parent, and he gets it, and rise like jason inevitably will, hopefully she'll get there, she takes the whole Jason situation poorly, she's trying, they choose their new identities here, this is how she lets go of that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:50:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26880181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rafamarkos5998/pseuds/rafamarkos5998
Summary: While Jason is training with the All-Caste, things are going further to shit back in Gotham. After a year of the Bats being in disarray, Bruce has given in and accepted assistance from the Justice League in keeping the city under check. The fact that he gave in to that before giving in to a conversation with his family says a lot, at least in Tim's eyes. Unfortunately, there are more important things to discuss, about their lost brother.Cass is hearing none of this. Bruce has betrayed all that they stood for, and she can't bear to wear the symbol on her chest anymore. She still needs her fix of punching, though, and thus enters the part of the world where fighters of Shiva's calibre lie in wait. Sooner or later, she'll run into her, and that will give her a way to find her little brother.Barbara is just hoping that her protege doesn't lose herself in the process.
Relationships: Athanasia al Ghul & Jason Todd, Athanasia al Ghul & Talia al Ghul, Batfamily Members & Cassandra Cain, Batfamily Members & Jason Todd, Cassandra Cain & Barbara Gordon, Cassandra Cain & Jason Todd, Ducra & Jason Todd, Stephanie Brown & Cassandra Cain, Talia al Ghul & Jason Todd
Series: Son of Shiva [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1857853
Comments: 26
Kudos: 205





	1. Life and Death

**Author's Note:**

> I felt that Jason will have to return to Gotham, at least momentarily, before he can move onto something else if he so chooses. For that, we need a view of what the place is like - hence this instalment.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim learns some things that happened during Jason's time in Gotham. He can't keep it to himself.
> 
> Cass isn't dealing with this well. Or even adequately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to come back to the idea of Jason wanting to cease to be. And I wanted to write Cass losing faith in what she does and who she is. Hence this.

Tim leans back in his chair, surveying the pile of notes and scattered bits of evidence he has gathered over the course of the past year.

It's been hard work, piecing together this story without access to any of the tools he is used to having, but he's done it.

Ever since Jason left, it's been hard to trust the rest of the Bats on anything whatsoever. Irrespective of his grievances against Jason, he couldn't honestly say that his predecessor had deserved any of the things that had happened to him.

And the information he's gathered doesn't make it look any better.

The bulk of Tim's data is comprised of injury reports made by Leslie in all the times Jason's gone to her for treatment. Which was a pretty regular occurrence over the course of the second Robin's second stint in Gotham. There are multiple records of life-threatening injuries and illnesses, none of which he recalls ever being told about. Some of them were serious enough to require prolonged care in the ICU and had him put on life support for over a day.

How they had managed to miss that, is something Tim doesn't have a clue about. He's not sure he _wants_ to know. He's somewhat certain that he won't like the implications he can draw.

A somewhat unusual report catches his eye. Unlike the rest, it's been taken from Gotham General.

It's a post-mortem report on a Jason Head. The body had been brought in by his mother after she had found him lying in his flat, unresponsive.

The man had been brought in on the verge of death and had actually passed on the operating table. Death had been caused by exsanguination due to lacerations on the inner side of the forearm, and all attempts at resuscitation had failed thanks to the body being found quite a while after the injury was inflicted. In fact, it was a shock that the body had survived that long.

The body had been taken by Mrs Head before a full autopsy could be performed. Religious reasons were cited, and Gotham General had been compelled to comply with a generous donation of $5.4 million.

The paper falls from his hand, as his brain tries to wrap itself around what he has just read.

_Jason killed himself._

_He killed himself, and we didn't even know._

Tim feels his lungs close in, and the sounds around him fade out as he hears his heartbeat and the rush of blood in his arteries drown out everything else. He collapses into the chair, curling into a ball and trying to regain some semblance of control over himself.

After a while - it's either a few minutes or a few months, Tim can't tell which - he finds himself able to breathe, and hear, and think again.

As he ponders over what he has discovered, Tim knows he can't keep this to himself.

It's not really about setting the record straight - at this point, that is a pointless endeavour. Jason is gone, possibly forever, and Cass has been out of reach for just as long.

But he can't really deal with a situation like this alone. He can't just push this below the surface and carry on, pretending like everything's okay. He needs to tell _someone_ , or else he'll break.

He picks up the phone to dial.

\---------------------------------

Barbara watches as Steph and Tim stand in the elevator, climbing to her floor in the Watchtower. Steph looks as confused as Barbara feels, but Tim's face is oddly determined.

This does not bode well for them.

She knows it's about Jason - she's kept tabs on the third Robin, and he's been hard at work trying to scrounge up anything he could find on Jason's time in Gotham. He's been insisting that Jason did not leave due to a spur-of-the-moment decision, and has spent the last year trying to figure out what drove him away.

For Barbara, the answer is obvious - something had happened to Jason while he was seemingly dead that prompted him to cut and run. There's no other explanation for the sudden change in behaviour.

She watches as Tim and Steph stride down the hallway and rolls away to a separate control panel that operates the door to her room. It unlocks and opens a few degrees noiselessly, but gives enough of a visual sign to indicate the approaching pair that they have been given permission to enter.

Steph walks in first, followed by Tim. She looks at Barbara with a questioning glance, to which Barbara responds with a tired shrug. She turns her gaze to Tim, who raises a folder and begins his speech.

"I found something. Might be related to why Jason left."

Steph is eager to get to the point. "Spill."

"This here is a post-mortem report on a Jason Head from Gotham General. This dates back to about a month after Bruce beat him up for shooting the Penguin."

"Wait. Post-mortem?"

"Yeah."

Barbara watches as Steph looks over one of the copies of the report. She can't bring herself to look at it - it's about Jason _dying_. Again. It feels... wrong.

"How did he die?" Barbara asks quietly.

"Exsanguination due to lacerations running down his wrist and inner forearm."

Barbara freezes in shock.

"What the fuck?" Steph exclaims. "You sure about this, Tim?"

"Yep. I'm sure. It's real. One of the nurses commented later about him having a white patch of hair in his early 20s."

"My God..." Barbara mutters.

"I think that explains his declaration back in the warehouse when he... when he shot himself. He'd done this before, and he came back that time. He was asking what I have determined was the personification of Death for a favour."

"What kind of favour?"

Tim takes a deep breath.

"The lines are from American Gods. Specifically, a point when the protagonist, Shadow Moon, sacrifices himself and is judged by a gaggle of Egyptian gods who do the whole 'weighing of the heart' thing. The scale balances, and Shadow asks for an afterlife where he would no longer exist. The book describes it as being different from both 'darkness' and 'oblivion'."

Barbara frowns.

"That is a stretch. A pretty huge stretch."

"And yet it would not only explain why Jason had mellowed enough to be able to work with Kate. And why he wanted to avoid Bruce when he revived this time."

"Why do you think Bruce had something to do with this?"

"Because it's the only way Bruce wouldn't make a bigger deal about Talia coming to Gotham."

As much as she hates the thought, Barbara has to admit it has some merit.

They need to talk to Bruce.

And to make sure he doesn't weasel out of the ensuing discussion, they need Cass.

\---------------------------------

Cass turns her head to dodge the incoming right hook while also raising one leg to flip and lock her arm and take her down with the momentum.

She manages to make her opponent fall down face first and lands a sharp blow to the back of his head.

_One down. Nineteen to go._

She looks up at her opponents. They are all mostly amateurs and have no chance against her. Although two of them look a bit different to the rest, and her mind tells her to keep an eye out for them.

This might actually be somewhat fun after all.

She charges into the brawl in a way she never had before she left the Bats. Such recklessness had never been her M.O., but after her little brother left, driven away by their father, she finds it difficult to put on a uniform with his symbol on it.

The symbol no longer feels like it is worth her devotion.

She has always known that Bruce was flawed - deeply flawed. That was why she decided that her allegiance was to the symbol. That Batman was their leader on the field, but that he was not the one who decided what was right and wrong. The symbol decided that, and they all obeyed its rules.

Bruce had become a father to her over time, given her a chance to leave behind the pain Cain had inflicted on her and start afresh. It was a chance to make peace with her past and try to build a new future. One where she could use her skills to do good, _real_ good, and make up for the pain she had caused before.

But she had always made sure to remember that her duty was to live up to the Bat she wore on her chest. It stood for something way more powerful and important than Bruce - something he seemed to realize as well.

And outside the cape, she could see how hard he was trying to be good to them. How much he was trying to be a good father. She could almost feel the love pouring off of him, and tried to forgive all his mistakes in light of the fact that he clearly wanted to do right by them.

Now, she knows that Jason could see it too.

She has looked back at all the instances of Bruce interacting with Jason and has noticed that Jason always, _always_ , came right back to Bruce no matter what he does. He had always taken all the unfair deals that Bruce gave out to him to test his obedience, to see how willing he was to submit to his father.

Maybe it was the love Jason could see in Bruce that kept him coming back over and over and _over_ again. Maybe that is what compelled him to try and erase himself, to try and gain the love he has heard of from others and can see in his body.

Or maybe Jason was tired of never receiving the love he knew Bruce had inside himself.

A love that Bruce has always refused to actually show, with words and actions.

Jason had once told her that Bruce thought of love as a weapon. (She couldn't remember his exact words, but the idea had stuck with her.) How he used what would normally be a weakness in their line of work to his advantage, to manipulate the rivals he couldn't hope to fight head-on.

It has become more appropriate now, knowing that Bruce was capable of ignoring his love for his son to try and kill him. Or maybe it was him _using_ his love for his son to try and kill him. She doesn't know which it was, and she doesn't want to.

Cass takes down the largest opponent in the crowd by wrapping her legs around his neck in a technique she had picked up from Barbara.

She drowns out the thoughts of Bruce in an array of punches.

She sees one of the fighters she was watching out for coming for her - a painfully telegraphed punch that she could dodge in her sleep. With broken arms and legs.

She lets it land on her cheek, only barely turning with the blow so as to not lose her balance.

She lets herself get lost in the haze of punches taken and delivered, barely looking at the puzzled glances on the faces of the pair she should have been watching more closely.

No matter. In the end, they're all lying on the floor, bloody and beaten.

She remains standing.

A part of her brain tells her that this isn't fighting, not really. There's no test of skill here, just a test of willpower and pain tolerance.

She lets that part drown in the sea of praising chants from the audience.

And in the crowd, she notices a familiar face. Blonde hair, blue eyes, and the angriest expression she had seen in a while.

Steph was _angry_.

\---------------------------------

Steph walked into Cass' changing room, after threatening the manhood of a motley of security guards who seemed ridiculously incompetent given the class of the combatants on the property.

Then again, maybe their incompetence was _caused_ by the class of the combatants present on the property.

Cass was changing into her civilian outfit, and seeing her face washed clean did improve its appearance. Still, the bruises were apparent.

Steph shook her head at the Best Bat, as Jason used to call her.

"I told you, you need to stop this. It's not helping anyone."

"No."

"Come on, Cass, you need to stop hurting yourself like this. I can't watch you do this to yourself."

"Then don't."

"This can't last, Cass. You can't run around and live out of safehouses forever. Just come back. You don't need to be Black Bat."

"I need to fight."

"That wasn't fighting, that was you looking to get hit. You could have dodged every single attack, yet you didn't."

"Does not matter."

" _Yes it does_. It matters whether you are getting hurt or not."

"What I feel... does not matter."

"The hell it doesn't. You can't just fucking say that!"

Cass does not reply.

Steph stops, takes a deep breath, and takes a different angle.

"Look, I know I can't stop you here. So I'll let Babs do that once we get to Gotham. But we need you. At least come for a while. If Babs fails to convince you, I won't interfere."

"Why me?"

"We need to confront Bruce. And we need you to tell us when he's lying."

"No need. You can tell too. He is a bad liar."

"And yet he managed to fool us for so long."

"He tricked us because we let him. We should have asked. Not... let him do what he wanted."

"Yeah, I know we fucked up, but how could we have known?"

"They did not hide. We... I... looked away."

"Look, you don't need to take responsibility for Bruce and Jason's issues."

"No. I saw... Bruce loved Little Brother. He loved Bruce. I thought... that was enough."

Steph doesn't really have an answer to that.

After all, Cass has relied on her ability to read people for nearly her entire life. It's what drives her actions. To see it become useless... she can't comprehend what that would be like.

"If you want to know what Bruce did... just ask. He will answer."

"Yeah, we know that. We need you to figure out the why."

"Why does not matter. What Bruce felt... does not matter." 

"Cass, don't say that-"

"What we feel... doesn't matter. What we do... does."

\---------------------------------

Bruce walks into Barbara's private conference room at the Watchtower. Tim's sitting at a desk, and the projector is displaying a document. Barbara is next to the slide deck at the head, and Steph is standing to the side.

Talia al Ghul is lounging on a chair on the near end of the room. He looks at her, she looks at him, and her face is bathed in a vicious smile.

Before he can comment on her presence, Tim speaks.

"Oh, you're here, Bruce. Good. We'll skip the pleasantries and get straight to it. I need you to tell me something. Does this document remind you of anything?"

He points to the document on the screen. The projector is one of the manual varieties and is painting an absurdly large area in a cold, white light with black marks all over it. He can see it pretty clearly.

It's a post-mortem report for a Jason Head, who died on the operating table at Gotham General a few years ago. He remembers the date. It's close to another important date, one that he vividly remembers despite desperately wanting to forget it.

The day Selina left him at the altar.

Wait, that can't be real. Jason was alive, he had been rescued by Roy. He had just returned to Gotham at that point, probably to dispose of his properties. Bruce had known exactly when he came back, and he hadn't heard of anything going wrong with him. He feels pretty sure about that, he always knew what Jason was up to as the Hood.

Cause of death is listed as... exsanguination. Lacerations on forearm.

No, this _definitely_ isn't real.

"Talia, we already know Jason isn't coming back to us. You don't need to use lies to make your point."

"Oh, Bruce, I wish it was a lie."

Her smile fades, and Bruce can feel the temperature of the room go down.

"I found him lying on the floor in his bedroom in a pool of his own blood. I rushed him to Gotham General because that was the closest hospital we could find."

Talia's eyes cloud over before hardening again.

"He had clawed himself back from the brink of death, only to throw it away another time. All because of _you_. It was a miracle that he even lived to get to the hospital - from our investigation of his room, he had slit his wrists nearly a day before we arrived."

Bruce is relieved - this is proof that the whole thing was just Jason was being dramatic. "Why didn't you tell us? You knew I was keeping tabs on you, I would have found out immediately if you needed me." If he plays his cards right, he can get her to expose herself.

"Why would I call you?"

"Thanks for your time, Talia. We appreciate it." Tim interjects. "We would hate to keep you here for no reason. I imagine you would want to get back to your son."

Talia nods and gets up from her seat. She smiles at the kids in the room and leaves.

It's strangely anticlimactic.

"So, Bruce. The million-dollar question. What did you know about this?"

"I knew he had been hospitalized, but he was released pretty soon, so I ignored it. He had been aware of my surveillance and had gone silent a full twenty hours before he entered the hospital. Clearly, it was instrumental in exposing this farce."

"It's not a farce, Bruce."

Barbara sounds resigned.

Tim is the one who speaks next. "Bruce, Jason _killed himself_. He killed himself, and none of us found out. Do you understand how fucked up that is?"

"If you have the hospital report, you should have surveillance footage of him in a convenience store two days later. He was _fine_. So clearly what he did to himself wasn't as bad as you're painting it out to be."

"Bruce, I'm going to say this slowly, so that it goes through into your skull - Jason killed himself. And if you remember what he said at the warehouse, you would know that he asked whoever he saw to _erase him_. So, given that people who attempt suicide will often try again, what happened there would have probably happened at some point under different circumstances."

Bruce freezes.

"Yeah, thank God, it landed. Congratulations, Bruce, there's still hope for you."

"Doesn't matter if he understands his mistakes." Stephanie declares. "All that matters is what he's going to do about it."

"He's not going to do _anything_." Barbara seethes. "I'm not letting him do anything to Jason."

"I would never hurt Jason."

"There's a scar on his neck that says otherwise."

Bruce doesn't know how to reply to that.

"You know, Jason once told me that despite the old money, you were exactly like Gatsby. You're too proud to accept things not going your way."

Barbara's voice becomes softer, sadder.

"I guess he fell victim to the foul dust that floats in the wake of your dreams."

Barbara wheels herself out. Steph follows him.

Tim looks him in the eye. His expression is blank.

"I swear your pride will be the death of us all, Bruce. Beware, it goeth before the fall."

He walks away, leaving Bruce alone with his thoughts.

\---------------------------------

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always found the idea of 'living for yourself' kinda hokey. I don't want to be told to 'live for myself', especially when I'm wondering exactly how many episodes of Daredevil S03 I can get away with before I die because I definitely need to be beyond saving before my parents call me at 8 am. (Thankfully, I skipped classes and dinner and thus got done by 10:30 or so, which meant that I spent the next hour crying or so with my head in a noose before giving up and got enough sleep to be able to catch that early morning call the next day.)
> 
> Also, Cass giving up hope would be terrifying and sad, so here is a small taste of it. It won't last, because I do want to write some genuinely uplifting stuff here, and not just pointless angst.


	2. Love and Birth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talia decides to have a kid. Jason and Cass choose new names.
> 
> It's how they get there that matters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to have a take on Mom!Talia where she gets a shot at raising a kid somewhat normally. Seems like fertile ground for writing the parent I've always wanted but never had. (Yes, if it wasn't obvious, this fic is cathartic wish-fulfilment for me, in a weird way.)

Talia steps off the jet and into the limousine, barely sparing a glance for the multitude of League personnel that are there only to serve the Daughter of the Demon.

She enters the car and notices her eldest son sitting on the seat opposite her.

"Habibi. It is good to see you."

"Hi, Mom. How was the trip?"

"Unsurprisingly predictable."

"You said Babybird found something. What was it?"

"Records of your death."

"Which one?"

"...Jason."

"Hey, it's a valid question."

"Your demise is not an appropriate subject for humour."

"Hey, it's the only way I can cope with it."

"Surely you can find other methods. Ones that involve some form of healing."

"Eh, I'll pass. It's kinda clear that death is off the cards for me."

"If that was supposed to reassure me, you have failed. Miserably."

Jason looks like he has a supposedly witty retort on the tip of his tongue, but Talia raises a warning finger to pre-empt it.

He shrugs his shoulders, his expression radiating extreme disappointment.

Talia raises an eyebrow at him.

"Hey, I have a sense of humour!"

"A deplorably pathetic one."

"I thought mothers were supposed to love you when no one else could." He huffs too, the cheek!

"They are also supposed to prepare their children to face the world, to the best of their ability."

"Point taken. You still haven't answered the question."

"...They found the hospital records from the incident where you slit your wrists in your apartment."

Jason stills and his eyes are filled with a mixture of fear and shame. And crucially, hope.

"What did he say, T?"

They both know it's not about Tim anymore.

"He had apparently known of your hospitalisation, but not about the cause. He had made some... troubling assumptions about what exactly happened there."

The hope disappears, replaced by disappointment and sadness.

"You need not think about it. It seems your... former colleagues were sceptical of his claims and highly critical of his actions."

Jason's face is inscrutable again, and Talia yet again wishes for Shiva's ability to see exactly what her son is thinking and feeling.

He's about to train with her. His birth mother.

She would be lying if she said that it didn't bother her.

"As I said, you do not need to think about it. That man does not deserve your attention, let alone your affections."

"And still both of us love him."

Talia grimaces. Some truths are too hard to face, even for the Daughter of the Demon.

The rest of the ride passes in silence.

\---------------------------------

When Jason comes into her room after her first day with Shiva, he looks like he's been run over. Repeatedly. He's certainly had a hard time coping with her skill.

"It seems as though you met a worthy opponent at last."

"She's not my enemy, she's my teacher."

"For now."

Jason shrugs and then points at the cylinder prominently displayed on her desk.

"You never told me what that was."

"Why do you ask?"

"It's an odd choice of decoration, and from what I know of you, T, you don't do that. You have particular tastes, and that isn't it."

She smiles. It's hard to get used to the idea of her son being able to see right through her. She's lucky that he's on her side.

"When Damian was conceived... there was another. Twins. But... the second child was a girl."

Jason's face hardens, but she barely pays attention to it. Now that the words have started coming out, they don't stop.

"Father did not believe that a female child was worth the investment. I managed to get him to agree to freeze the embryo in case we needed a tissue culture that was compatible yet distinct, to deal with possible future complications."

"Did-"

"No, we never needed to go through with using her. But the possibility remains."

"That's not why you kept her, though."

Jason's right, but she doesn't want to think of it.

"Mom?"

"I wanted to have something to remember him by. To remember that there was once love between us. That it wasn't always just pain and conflict and distrust."

Jason walks up to the desk, and tilts his head, staring at - staring at _her daughter_.

He picks it up, and puts it in her hand, gently wrapping her fingers around it.

"You said that you still love him."

Talia nods. She can't say it, but it is true, and it _hurts_.

"Love her instead."

Talia freezes, looking at her son in shock.

"Love her instead, and let him _go_."

\---------------------------------

Two months after Jason had started training with Shiva, Talia tells him that she's decided to carry Athanasia to term in her own womb. From a logical perspective, it's a poor choice - the Daughter of the Demon being in a physically compromised state for nearly a year is bad news, especially given that she's planning a coup against the Demon's Head.

Fortunately, this isn't about cold-hearted logic. Talia has never been particularly inclined towards that kind of thought.

This is about leaving behind a life of being defined by prideful men who refuse to see her as anything but the Daughter of the Demon. It is a chance to start a life where she can love without guilt and heartache, where she doesn't need to worry about having to give up her child to keep him safe. It is her opportunity to celebrate her baby's birthday without worrying about whether there will be another one to celebrate.

Jason is happy and excited, and a little bit scared. He isn't sure if he knows how to be a proper big brother.

It was much easier with Damian - the kid did not expect compassion from him, and in return, he could afford to slip back into anger and despair and brashness. He can't be that way around Athanasia.

Still, Talia remains adamant that he would be an excellent big brother - after all, he has achieved some form of self-awareness, if not the ability to change his behaviour for the better.

Well, he isn't going to be a big brother for a while. He can shelve the idea for now.

\---------------------------------

It's his first day back with the All-Caste, and he's eating breakfast in the grand mess hall of their hidden sanctuary. There are no more members left, of course, but he can see the ghosts of some of the more magically adept fallen members roam around the place.

Some are looking at the food he's eating. He wonders if he's committed some sort of faux-pas here - incidents of him offending someone high up in the hierarchy of the All-Caste had been terrifyingly frequent in the past. With his luck, his fellow warriors were probably offended by something he was doing.

"No, they're just envious." Ducra clarifies.

"Of what?" Jason feels pretty sure they're the ones with most, if not all, of the advantages.

"Your cooking skills." She says it as though it should have been blindingly obvious.

Jason raises an eyebrow, then tilts his head to the side, pondering over the statement. As absurd as it sounds, it isn't entirely unprecedented. It's _possible_.

"Okay."

"I'm one of the envious people. So finish quick, young man."

Well, he certainly hasn't missed Ducra's sense of humour.

He inhales the rest of the poached eggs, downs the coffee in three gulps and stuffs the last piece of bread into his mouth, chewing it as he goes off to wash his plates. Since he's the only one there, it's much less work than the last time he was training here.

After cleaning up, he moves to the inner sanctum where Ducra used as a lecture hall whenever she felt like being profound. Which, for him, was twice a week, and by the time he left, he was _done_ with the anger management sessions.

As he sits down cross-legged in his usual spot from a few lifetimes ago, Ducra appears before him.

"You gonna tell me about how 'One day your heart will shine brighter than the dark fury inside me'?"

"As a matter of fact, no."

"Wow. What's wrong? You're not usually this kind."

"Believe me, there will be a day when you will be more than just the rage coursing through you. But you will never leave it behind."

"I thought you didn't want me to be angry."

Ducra laughs. "I wanted you to get rid of the blind fury that consumed you. It hasn't worked so far, but there's still some hope for you. A minuscule amount, but it's not entirely absent."

"Really feeling the love here."

"You are young, my boy. You still have time to learn."

"I don't think the time I have to understand whatever you're saying has anything to do with my age."

Ducra seems unamused.

"Hopefully, you'll also learn to value your life at the end."

"Eh, don't have time for that."

He can _feel_ the raised eyebrow, the sigh and the eye roll, all at once.

"I need to know how this works. I need to know why I keep coming back."

"So that you can ensure that next time you don't?"

Jason knows better than to deny the statement.

"The answers you find may not give you the validation you seek."

"Story of my life, Ducra. I'll burn that bridge when I get to it."

Ducra laughs again and waves her arm. The world blurs.

\---------------------------------

"Well, that didn't explain anything at all."

"Only because you refuse to comprehend the obvious due to your disagreement with it."

"The thingamajig said that something about being an 'avatar of wrath' - which, by the way, is complete bullshit, I'm not that shallow."

"That's not what the statement means."

"Also, why did I get a lecture about 'stories beginning with birth and ending with death' and 'reincarnated Greek heroes in classical stories and archetypes'? I like reading all the great stories out there, but I don't get that far up my ass while using books as a lens to see the world."

"Well, I'm sure his real audience understood."

"Yeah, I guarantee there's nobody who can listen to that without their eyes rolling back completely."

"That sounds painful."

"Not as painful as listening to that guy. Which reminds me - mind explaining what that meant, O Wise All-Mother?"

"I told you. You will never leave the rage behind."

"I'm pretty sure there's more to me than just rage. I can be complex and interesting and multi-faceted."

"And yet, the reason you cling onto life is the rage inside of you."

Jason wants to deny that - it sounds so patently absurd, after all - but a part of him, the part that keeps whispering when the green creeps up on him, _knows_ that it's true.

He has always known that it's true.

"I don't want to cling to life by being angry."

"Being driven by anger does not negate the other things you feel."

"I don't want it."

"Why?"

"...It means that they were right."

It's obvious who he's talking about. Jason's thankful for that - he doesn't think he has the strength of will for the brutally honest conversation that involves naming his deepest insecurities and deliberating upon them.

"I don't want to be the person they said I was."

Ducra doesn't respond.

"Say something, dammit. Don't leave me hanging here."

"What is the colour of anger?"

"Where is this going?"

"Somewhere relevant. What is the colour of anger?"

"Red. It's the colour of Mars the planet, and thus the colour of Mars the God, because of which it is associated with warfare, courage, and anger."

"And yet, that's not the colour of anger _for you_."

Jason remains silent.

"So, what is the colour of anger for you?"

"Green. The colour of the pit."

"And already, you have proven yourself to be a bit more nuanced than the blandest stereotype. Surely, over time, you can prove to yourself that you are not what your detractors say of you?"

"...I don't know."

"You will, my child. You will."

\---------------------------------

Jason is enjoying his day off with Talia, sitting at a table near the beach on the Outlaws' hidden base, when the thought strikes him.

It's been a few months of non-stop training of his soul's endurance and some rudimentary magical abilities. He's mostly stuck to training with the All-Blades and some similar talismans, it fits in much better with his existing fighting style.

There have also been several instances of what he's temporarily dubbing therapy sessions, with Ducra at the helm, wherein they try to get him to sort out his feelings. Most of the time, he deflects with a joke. Other times, he retorts with blinding fury.

It's about seven months into Talia's pregnancy, and the expected due date is just under 50 days. The culture sample Talia had kept had accelerated the growth of the foetus, so her pregnancy is not likely to last as long as normal ones.

It would have gone by in a week if she had used an artificial uterus, but she had flatly refused that option. Her coup could wait - her child could not.

In any case, Nyssa was an extremely skilled leader herself. She could handle the plans for the removal of Ra's al Ghul with ease.

All Talia needed to do was support her takeover of the throne, and all would be well.

The only reason the deal went through was that Talia agreed quite readily to let Nyssa be the Demon's Head. Nyssa had come around to having sympathy for Talia, and they had rekindled a bond of some sort in the time that they had spent together, planning their father's downfall. It helped that he got along with her pretty damn well.

"You know, I didn't get why you refused to take the throne from Ra's back then, but I think I get it now."

"And what have you understood, Habibi?"

"Your choices, at least the important ones, are made for love."

Talia raises her eyebrow, encouraging him to proceed.

"You had Damian because you loved Bruce, and let Ra's have his way with him because you loved your father. You gave your son to Bruce because you loved him too much to endanger his life, and you left the love of your life because you loved your father too much to abandon him. You decided that he needed to die because he had harmed Damian, and you went through with it because you love Attie. You saved me because you loved Bruce and wanted his love back, you trained me because you loved Bruce and didn't want me to kill him, and you cared for me because you loved me."

Talia doesn't reply, but he can see her eyes glistening.

"You came for me when I needed you because you love me."

Talia smiles, it's sad and happy and relieved and angry and hopeful, all at the same time.

Ducra was right after all - drawing on one emotion did not make you dependent on it.

"I hope I can continue to protect you despite that aspect of my nature."

"Nah, Talia, you will continue to protect us _because of_ that aspect of your nature. You love me and Damian and Attie and Nyssa enough to do whatever it takes."

Talia's smile widens, as she reclines back in her chair.

"I hope I can be worthy of that love, Mom."

"You already are. And you always will be."

It's the most reassuring thing he has heard.

\---------------------------------

When he returns to the All-Caste the next day, Ducra has a knowing smile on her face as she greets him.

"Do you understand now?"

"I do."

"Then I believe you have achieved your goal. I will repeat my desire to have you remain here, at least until you have a somewhat steady control over your negative thoughts."

"There's a joke in there about having only negative thoughts, but the thought of laughing at that kind of joke is pretty positive, don't you think?"

"That's not funny, Jason."

"Cut me some slack, I'm not a professional. Being a crime lord doesn't leave much time for stand-up. Too much accounting to do."

"You may have become better at controlling your anger and letting it fuel you instead of becoming a hindrance, but that was something you had started on already. You can learn that on your own, especially given that you picked up all of our techniques and their various nuances from books, not from us. What we can give you is a way to make peace with who you are."

"If I say no, does it happen eventually anyway?"

"...Yes." Ducra sounds sad, but Jason ignores it.

"Is there peace for me, Ducra? Is there an end to this?"

"...Yes. There is."

"Then this is good enough for me."

"The world can do without you sacrificing yourself to it, Jason."

"The victims who need vengeance can't. And someone has to be there for them."

"Leave it be. Justice will come eventually."

"Eventually isn't fast enough. And if there is going to be collateral damage, I would rather have it be a bunch of criminals instead of victims."

Ducra sighs. Jason ignores that too.

"Goodbye, Ducra. And thank you for having me."

"It was our duty, boy. And I hope that you manage to gain some sense sooner rather than later."

\---------------------------------

Cass walks down the street, her loose-fitting hoodie and scarf concealing her head and her nondescript sweatpants making her indistinguishable from most of the general populace of Gotham. Even though she was the daughter of Bruce Wayne, she usually managed to go mostly unnoticed whenever she walked through the city - a combination of her training from Cain and her experiences with Steph giving her enough of a grasp on how to appear normal and insignificant without making much of an effort to hide.

She's walking through Crime Alley, when she hears a scream from a nondescript cul-de-sac to her right, across the road.

It's a young woman. She looks about as old as Steph, and she's pushing up against the wall of the alley and curling into the smallest ball possible, to try and not get hurt by the crowd of men slowly walking up to her. A bag of - are those potatoes and lettuce? - lies at the mouth of the alley, and it feels like an invitation.

_No. It's not your duty to help them._

She crosses the road.

The posse of cocky amateurs doesn't even see her until she has dropped half of them.

And if her blows land a bit harder than normal, well, there's nobody there to tell her to hold back.

Besides, there was probably something to be said for Jason's method of putting the fear of death into the criminal classes. She definitely tried to display killing intent - whatever intent could be communicated without looking at her facial expressions, that is.

Once the men were dealt with, she went over to the victim.

It's funny, how that was one of the first English words that she learned. Why was that?

The woman's head rises out of the ball, and even though all she sees is Cass' eyes, they reassure her enough for her to relax and adopt a more open... posture? Yes, that was probably the word.

Cass knows that she probably looks just as threatening as the people who were about to assault her, but to her surprise, she is greeted by a warm hug.

It doesn't make sense, but it's warm and comforting, and Cass decides she can do with some of that now.

Eventually, the woman lets go a bit.

"I hate to impose on you... but can you help me get home? I'm scared."

"...I am a stranger. Why not call family?"

"I don't have any."

Oh.

"I... understand. I will come."

The woman smiles, and Cass feels her heart swell the way it had when she had worn the Batgirl costume and helped someone for the first time. 

It's a short walk to her house, but Cass feels better now than she has in a long, long time.

As the woman is about to enter her building, she turns to Cass.

"Thanks for... everything."

"It was the right thing to do."

"And yet so few do it. Especially for orphans like me."

As she waves goodbye, Cass feels a spark light inside her.

\---------------------------------

Cass walks towards Barbara's room with slow, purposeful strides. She feels a sense of purpose that she hasn't felt in a long, long time.

As she walks through the door, she sees her mentor's face light up, then become grim again.

She's getting used to people reacting to her like that.

She hasn't been back to the manor in two years now. Bruce hasn't tried to contact her, but he's made sure that her assortment of safe houses remains well-stocked. She's pretty sure that Alfred has been using Barbara to know where he needs to drop off the cookies.

Too bad that cookies won't bring her little brother back.

She shakes her head, trying to get that thought to go away. Thinking of him is... painful. She doesn't want to feel that pain, one that chases her and refuses to go away.

_Focus._

She lays a set of drawings in front of Barbara. And a clear bag.

The bag contains her old uniform, from back when she was an assassin. She had lived on the streets for a while before being taken in, but her uniform was one of the best ever made, including whatever Bruce or Tim or Lucius could come up with.

It carries no insignia, no identifying marks. Just a black suit, designed for the shadows.

Barbara looks over the drawings, ones she had painstakingly made throughout the past few weeks. She frowns but does not say anything.

Once she has analysed the papers thoroughly, she turns to Cass.

"Are you sure about this?"

"Yes."

"Okay, then. I'll help you."

"...Why?"

"You don't know?"

Cass can see it, but she doesn't want to say it. What if her pointing it out will make it disappear?

"Cass?"

"I see love... but I don't understand why, I _hurt_ you. I hurt _everyone_."

Barbara sighs and pulls Cass into a crushing hug.

"I don't understand. I don't understand." Cass keeps repeating, in the hope that it will somehow make sense.

"Not all of us love like Bruce does, Cass."

Cass flinches. She hates the fact that she is reacting that way.

"It's okay, Cass. I love you, and I won't put any conditions on showing it."

"...I love you too."

\---------------------------------

Jason walks into Talia's room, which has been converted into an office now that she is on maternity leave. Attie is sleeping on the side closest to the balcony, and the sunlight is shining on her through the see-through curtains.

Working for Lex does have some benefits. Well, a lot of benefits.

Protection from the superhero community is one of them.

Jason would like nothing more than to leave the violence behind and stay here, as the mysterious adopted son of Talia Head. He would like to be able to lead a peaceful life here. He wants to finish school, study medicine and be an overprotective big brother to Attie.

He can't do any of those things.

Vigilantism is a disease. Once it gets you, it's nigh impossible to simply leave.

Besides, he's an immortal rage monster in human skin. He is capable of achieving what Bruce and his brood can barely dream of.

He walks up to Talia and takes a seat in front of her, as she indicates that he needs to wait.

His grip on the bundle in his arms tightens, as the seconds tick by.

Talia shuts her laptop, turning to face him head-on. He takes a deep breath before speaking.

"I need a new suit."

"I presume I cannot dissuade you from doing this."

"You probably can. But I would probably ask again sometime."

"I don't want to use her to manipulate you into giving this up, but I think I can say that she would be better served with you being here with us."

"...I need to do something, I need to use this somehow."

They both know what _this_ is. They don't talk about it, but they do.

"Nobody will blame you if you quit, Habibi. There is not a soul who can say that you have not given enough already."

"Maybe I have. But I can still help people."

"There are other ways."

"None of them are this effective."

"...I do not wish to argue with you on this, Habibi, but I want you to promise me one thing."

"What is it?"

"If it ever gets too much for you to cope with, you shall stop. Immediately. And you will come back home."

"I'm not sure that there is a 'too much' for someone who can't die."

Talia gives him her best 'we are not amused' look. Jason raises his arms in surrender.

"Okay, okay, I promise. Sheesh, cut me some slack."

"Given my experience with you, I am disinclined to do that. Now show me this suit that you want."

Jason hands the packet over. It has a set of rough concept sketches, and a suit Talia gave him during his first stint with the League.

Talia looks over the drawings, ones he has made painstakingly throughout the past few weeks. She smiles but does not say anything.

"Interesting."

\---------------------------------

Cass' looks at her costume, proudly displayed on the stand. Barbara stands beside her, a sad smile on her face.

"Do you like it?"

"I do."

"Then go ahead."

\---------------------------------

Jason looks at the new suit hung up behind the glass wall. Talia stands beside him, a warm smile covering her face.

"Do you like it?"

"Hell yes."

"Then proceed, son."

\---------------------------------

As Jason looks at himself in the mirror, adjusting his helmet, Talia asks the obvious question.

"Who will you be?"

"Ghost."

\---------------------------------

As Cass looks at herself in the mirror, adjusting her belt, Barbara asks the all-important question.

"What name will you take?"

"Orphan."

\---------------------------------

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think that my version of Talia needs a chance to let go of her love for Bruce to be able to progress as a character, hence I pulled Athanasia al Ghul from the ether and decided to scrap most of her actual canon. I hope I'm not stepping on any Injustice fans' toes here.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope I've done a good job of depicting Cass having an important and interesting journey. My plan for this series entails that Jason is the central driving force of many story events, but Cass is the one with the more dramatic shift in personality and the more meaningful character arc. I hope I'm not making Jason feel like a side character in his own series here, in trying to add depth to Cass.


End file.
